O little town of Bethlehem
If one were to spend Christmas away from family, he might think the next best place to celebrate would be in Bethlehem, the actual birthplace of Jesus. Many people around the world wonder what it must be like in that little town every 25th of December and perhaps consider making some sort of pilgrimage one of these years. I'm sure that in all of the commercial hub-bub of the Western World, many become disillusioned with the holiday altogether. They feel that if they could only be where it actually happened, then they might have a true picture of Jesus. Well, this year I was stranded in Israel and the following is the true account of a Christmas in Bethlehem....
I always find it odd that Jesus was born in the West Bank. Of course things weren't the same politically two thousand years ago, but I still can't help but wonder if the conditions in which people lived were similar. The striking contrast between the sides of the green line wall is enough to take you back at least a few hundred years. These poor Christian Palestinians living in Bethlehem do what they can to get by, but the certainly don't have it all. It's easy to imagine a manger as a decent place to sleep when looking at the rough-cut buildings without power or water. We walked from the check-point to Manger Square admiring the dark buildings lined with strings of lit Christmas lights.
The square itself had as many people as it did lights. The crowded little place hosted people of all kinds. Arabs, Americans, Europeans, monks, priests, pastors, and weirdos all bustled around the vendors who were selling everything from hot drinks and food to glow in the dark baby Jesus's. The only thing they have in common, and I stress the only thing, is that baby born in a barn two thousand years ago (who incidentally was not glow in the dark). It was a bittersweet sight to see. Jesus, and the purpose of honoring Him that night, was the only thing keeping the peace. So many sects and ideologies with lots of historical baggage gathered in one place can at times bring out the worst in people. A few years back there was even a monk who stabbed another monk over some ridiculous ritual infraction. I thought we were supposed to give grace more freely now that we have been given so much.
My goal for the night was to keep warm with as many foods and friends as possible. The first item on the menu was a tasty..... er.... drink? If you can imagine hot runny oatmeal that tastes like cinnamon and coconut, you can imagine sachleb. It's a very middle eastern drink and is best served on a very cold night. Next, I rustled up some very tasty falafel with all the fixin's. Freshly fried chickpeas in a pita with spices are always a good Bethlehem dinner. I was sorely disappointed with a street coffee while waiting to get into the Church. Fortunately for us we had a German with us who had just received a package from his little village grandma that was stuffed with holiday cakes and chocolate. The Christmas Award for best food goes to the Germans hands down (or should I say Hans down... Ha!).
The crowds around the church prevented us from going in, but I didn't want to go in anyway. Jesus was born outside under a giant star, I wanted to see as many stars as I could. On the walk back to the check-point we could finally see the sky and it was full of stars. The night sky always has a way of making me feel small and important all at the same time. I always lose myself in the same way one stares into a flame. Along the road carolers sang outside of a Christian Arabic Bookstore. They sang all of the classics... in Arabic of course. Even though singing along was impossible, their music added a feeling of hope to my walk under the stars. Hope for them, their land, and ultimately hope for all of us. I know that sounds grandiose, but Bethlehem is an island in a dark place. If they can sing about the hope that Jesus brought with Him on the dark lonely night so many years ago, then I can at least take some courage to face the fading darkness.
If you find yourself stranded in Israel some day years from now perhaps Bethlehem is worth a look, but the best way to honor Jesus's birth is to remember the way he lived... be generous and gracious to everyone you meet. Love one another, because everyone should be welcome in the family of God.... even until next Christmas!
Strength and Honor,
T
I always find it odd that Jesus was born in the West Bank. Of course things weren't the same politically two thousand years ago, but I still can't help but wonder if the conditions in which people lived were similar. The striking contrast between the sides of the green line wall is enough to take you back at least a few hundred years. These poor Christian Palestinians living in Bethlehem do what they can to get by, but the certainly don't have it all. It's easy to imagine a manger as a decent place to sleep when looking at the rough-cut buildings without power or water. We walked from the check-point to Manger Square admiring the dark buildings lined with strings of lit Christmas lights.
The square itself had as many people as it did lights. The crowded little place hosted people of all kinds. Arabs, Americans, Europeans, monks, priests, pastors, and weirdos all bustled around the vendors who were selling everything from hot drinks and food to glow in the dark baby Jesus's. The only thing they have in common, and I stress the only thing, is that baby born in a barn two thousand years ago (who incidentally was not glow in the dark). It was a bittersweet sight to see. Jesus, and the purpose of honoring Him that night, was the only thing keeping the peace. So many sects and ideologies with lots of historical baggage gathered in one place can at times bring out the worst in people. A few years back there was even a monk who stabbed another monk over some ridiculous ritual infraction. I thought we were supposed to give grace more freely now that we have been given so much.
My goal for the night was to keep warm with as many foods and friends as possible. The first item on the menu was a tasty..... er.... drink? If you can imagine hot runny oatmeal that tastes like cinnamon and coconut, you can imagine sachleb. It's a very middle eastern drink and is best served on a very cold night. Next, I rustled up some very tasty falafel with all the fixin's. Freshly fried chickpeas in a pita with spices are always a good Bethlehem dinner. I was sorely disappointed with a street coffee while waiting to get into the Church. Fortunately for us we had a German with us who had just received a package from his little village grandma that was stuffed with holiday cakes and chocolate. The Christmas Award for best food goes to the Germans hands down (or should I say Hans down... Ha!).The crowds around the church prevented us from going in, but I didn't want to go in anyway. Jesus was born outside under a giant star, I wanted to see as many stars as I could. On the walk back to the check-point we could finally see the sky and it was full of stars. The night sky always has a way of making me feel small and important all at the same time. I always lose myself in the same way one stares into a flame. Along the road carolers sang outside of a Christian Arabic Bookstore. They sang all of the classics... in Arabic of course. Even though singing along was impossible, their music added a feeling of hope to my walk under the stars. Hope for them, their land, and ultimately hope for all of us. I know that sounds grandiose, but Bethlehem is an island in a dark place. If they can sing about the hope that Jesus brought with Him on the dark lonely night so many years ago, then I can at least take some courage to face the fading darkness.
If you find yourself stranded in Israel some day years from now perhaps Bethlehem is worth a look, but the best way to honor Jesus's birth is to remember the way he lived... be generous and gracious to everyone you meet. Love one another, because everyone should be welcome in the family of God.... even until next Christmas!
Strength and Honor,
T
Labels: Bethlehem
posted by Medpilot at 10:10 PM
2 comments
